#Especially in his 30's era
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You. You get it š„¹
Stan taking Ford's identity is so NotThem from The Magnus Archives coded send tweet
#When I was also personally assigning them all entities (because I'm also insane)#I was really racking my brain for Stan#I was thinking The Hunt at first#but he would be the prey portion y'know? cause he was running from debt collectors#but the stranger fits him so well because I bet he also feels a lot of imposter syndrome#and goodness him taking Ford's identity is just SO The Stranger š#Like skajsksk he was alienated from his family at a young age and that DEF helped him aligning with The Stranger#I have a favorite character it is obvious š#But you're so right Ford would definitely be an avatar of The Eye š#Especially in his 30's era#because that's when his paranoia was at it's peak#Dipper would also be a bit aligned with The Eye but honestly I think maybe he'd be more The Hunt actually#definitely both#hear me out#His pursuit of knowledge of the unknown feels a bit aggresive?#like he was going to figure out the mysteries of Gravity Falls no matter the cost#Oh my god wait do you think if Jurgen Leitner found Ford's books he would put them in his library š#that is such a funny thought lmao š#anyway#you're so right about Mabel and Fiddleford#they're def aligned with The Spiral#but I think Fiddleford would also be under The Desolation š#I know they're thing is mainly fire and burning#but he was going around erasing people's memories and I feel like The Desolation would accept that#Mabel is pure Spiral though š
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Say what you will about Van Helsing 2004; hate it, love it, be indifferent, But the All-Hallow's masquerade ball went sooooo hard and it had zero right to do so! It's a fun, campy, monster mash movie with wonderfully dated ( and expensive) cgi and non-stop action meant to be a popcorn flick one takes out to watch around spooky season. And it has this* chef's kiss* GORGEOUS 6 minute sequence plopped arbitrarily in the second act, which unexpectedly surpasses nearly every other ball in the last 30+ years of film( notable exception being the Cinderella 2015 ball) for literally no reason other than to be dramatic af.
Like feast your eyes on this Gothic masterpiece!!! Who doesn't want to immediately live in this picture?!??
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They used those candles with oil in them so that they would have real candles, real string orchestra( I believe), probably around 100 real life extras( something which is tragically absent in modern film), said extras are all in beautiful fully decked-out costumes( which are in luxuriously dark colours, but nearly no fully black, another thing you cannot say for much modern cinema), REAL CIRQUE DU SOLEIL PERFORMERS for all the acrobatics!!!! Hell, instead of filming in a sound stage, where they could control the reverb and the acoustics and the size of the set and the bloody lighting ( they apparently had a heck of a time emulating the firelight for this sequence) and the temperature( it's very cold in stone churches!) better, they filmed in a Baroque church in Prague! As I said, peak dramatic splendour, jfc...
Think about that a second...They filmed a vampire masquerade in a Baroque Catholic Church( St. Nicholas' in Lesser Town, if you were curious) with amazing over-the-top acoustics and marble statues and real, tiled floors and marble pillars and a choir loft which they very much utilized, covered the pipe organ and the altar with a grand brocade curtain so it wouldn't be so obviously a, you know, a church! And there's a gold gilt elevated and canopied pulpit into which they put two vampire kiddies for, again, the sake of being dramatic.
And the costumes! They remind me of the 25th anniversary Phantom of the Opera Masquerade costumes. Same quality, like they're old, well-cared-for costumes pulled out of a warehouse, instead of fast industry churn-outs. With lots of trim and colour and masks and lace and feathers and..just...ugh.. they are all perfect! Just look at all the head pieces on the ladies and the hats on all the gentleman ( save Dracula of course) and the powdered wigs on the musicians. ANNNNDD! The dresses are historically correct!!!!!! It's the 80's bustle era! Nobody does the 80's bustle era in film anymore and it's a bummer. Oh and one other thing! Anna's ( and other women's) hair, at least here in the ball, is also historically accurate because it's all pinned up! None of those fucken modern beachwaves at a ball! Everybody's got updo's!
Gah, I swear, Dracula in his gold cloak really does things to me in this scene!
By the way, the acrobatics are bonkers in here for just background stuff!! Especially the random guys on unicycles and the dude playing the violin whilst standing on a ball...Like....WHAT?
Anyways, all this to say, that this masquerade ball feels sooo real and tangible and because of that it blows every other film out of the water, and no, I will not change my mind!!!!!
Here's a few more gifs, bcuz, why the hell not, this scene is sexy as fuu*ck?
Alright I need to go to bed now.
#van helsing#van helsing 2004#dracula#count dracula#cinderella 2015#I'm on a film rant#masquerade ball#vampire#vampire masquerade ball#practical effects#costumes#gorgeous gorgeous set#baroque church#count vladislaus dracula#cirque du soleil#WHY IS THIS SOOO GOOD????????#princess anna valerious#kate beckinsale#richard roxburgh#phantom of the opera 25th#very phantom of the opera-esque
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Alastor with a pure hearted s/o
a/n I'm fully aware that Alastor is aroace. My scenarios are meant to be interpreted as a deep, unconditional love, not necessarily romantic. I'm not aroace but I'm all for educating myself, so please if something's off let me (gently) know. Hope you enjoy :)
TW! canon typical violence
being a twisted person is not a requirement to reincarnate in Hell. Sins depend on religion, culture, societal norms. You were more of a victim, in fact.
you never got used to being in Hell. Surviving not only the Extermination but also the inhabitants becomes harder and harder every year.
it's kill or be killed, but you just can't bring yourself to do any harm to anyone, even if it means risking your own life.
as soon as you hear about princess Charlie Morningstar's new hotel for souls who want a second chance, your bags are PACKED
it's not like you really need redemption, you are pure hearted already. it's more a matter of understanding the reasons why you ended in Hell and coming to terms with them. maybe then the gates of Heaven would open for you. it's also a safer place for you to be.
Charlie welcomes you excitedly; Angel Dust, Husk and Vaggie aren't that friendly at first since your personalities don't match, but they eventually grow fond of you
and then there's, well...the Radio Demon.
you never met an Overlord before, and Alastor was supposed to be gone for years. But his presence wasn't frightening. A big smile spread across his face, he welcomed you like a gentleman.
you heard stories about his lifestyle and even previous murderous acts as a human, but for some reason you just can't bring yourself to fear him.
at first you were kinda pathetic to him. so naive, out of touch with the evils of Hell. he didn't dislike you. just thought your life was so easy to throw away in a society like that and that you wouldn't last long.
it seems like you two don't have much to share. he just wanders in his den, while you spend time in your room. you greet each other and have small talks, but nothing more than that. that's until he hears jazz music play behind your door.
he mentions it during dinner, and you start talking about your interest in 30s jazz music, especially the one of the Roaring 20s. you come from a later era, but you're very much cultured about jazz and its forms and that's enough for Alastor to develop an interest in you.
he has so many jazz artists recommendations, and you share some of your favourite pieces with him through your gramophone.
without even noticing, Alastor starts spending hours in your room just listening to music. some time even practicing swing dancing. and talking about jazz culture all around the world, and entertainment in general. he has many fun facts about the history of radio too!
the others at the hotel notice your growing bond and low-key support it, in their own, weird way. Angel Dust is especially convinced that you two are hooking up, as Husk not-so-kindly explains that it's more likely for Alastor to ascend to Heaven than express interest in sex.
you would start to open yourself up a bit to the Radio Demon. he doesn't understand why, since it didn't ask or never showed much empathy. but he just can't bring himself to tell you to stop. he wants to listen.
you manage to make him talk about some glimpses of his own life and thoughts. you knew that he was the complete opposite of you. incline to Evil, an enjoyer of all things that made your stomach clench. but he's still the one person who spends hours with you just listening to both jazz and your fears.
one day, Alastor decided that in no way you are walking around the city without him. it's just too dangerous for you. he tries to teach you how to use weapons and demonic powers to defend yourself but he doesn't feel like you can make it into Hell by yourself.
you like strolling through the streets with him, arms intertwined, chatting and laughing even if demons around you are shitting their pants just by seeing the Overlord walking around.
but one day, Alastor can't find you.
you're not in your room, or in the Hotel hall. No one saw you that morning. He starts to feel something he never felt in his life: fear.
he darts out the Hotel, trying to find you. that's when he sees you just a few streets away.
a group of animal-like demons is encircling you. you are on your knees, arms over your head to protect yourself. A lion-demon is holding a knife over you and your arms are covered in cuts. you hold something close to your stomach.
that's when Alastor realized that he had feelings for you.
when he threw himself between you and the demons attacking you.
it's the first time you see Alastor without a smile. his teeth are gritted, face full of unprecedented violence and will to kill, breathing heavily in and out in a sort of animalistic way, but there's no trace of his characteristic smile you love.
his body starts to morph into his full demon form. his horns grow exponentially, his body too as it hovers menacingly on top of your aggressors as they start to feel a pure fear they never felt before.
in a matter of a second, they are gone. Alastor has always been a calculated, elegant killer, but this time he only felt a raw, ferocious instinct to kill.
as he's done, he turns around towards you. he doesn't want to, but he snaps.
"WĢ¶ĢĢHĢ·ĶĢ»YĢ·Ģ
Ģ° Ģ¶ĶĢ DĢøĢĶIĢøĢĶDĢ“ĢæĶ Ģ·ĢĢÆYĢ¶ĶĢOĢ“ĢĢ¬UĢµĢĢ Ģ·ĢĶGĢ·ĢĢ§OĢøĶĢ© Ģ·ĶĢ¹OĢ¶ĶĢ®UĢøĢĶTĢ“ĶĢ Ģ·ĶĢ§WĢ“Ģ
ĶIĢ·ĶĢTĢøĶĢHĢ“ĶĢ¹OĢ“ĶĢŗUĢµĢĢTĢµĢĢŗ ĢµĶĢ¢MĢ“Ģ
ĢEĢ¶ĢĢ¬?ĢøĶĢ»!ĢøĶĢ¦"
you flinch, you never saw Alastor lose his composure. he was always so calm and collected. his voice was static, choppy.
the tears that were cornering your eyes start streaming down your face "I-I..."
"TĢ¶ĢĢ§HĢ“ĶĶEĢµĢĢ©YĢ·ĶĢ³ Ģ·ĢĢ³AĢøĢĢ”LĢ·ĢĶMĢ¶ĢĶOĢøĢĶSĢ“ĢĢTĢøĢĶ Ģ·ĶĢ¤KĢ·ĶĶIĢµĶĢŗLĢµĢĶLĢ“ĢĢ¤EĢ“ĢĶDĢ¶ĶĶ ĢµĶĢ»YĢµĢĢ°OĢøĶĢUĢ¶ĶĶ!ĢµĶĢ» ĢøĢ¾ĶDĢ“ĶĢÆOĢ¶Ģ
ĶNĢ¶ĢĢ±'Ģ·ĶĢ¹TĢµĶĶ Ģ¶ĢĢŗYĢ“ĶĢ¹OĢ¶Ģ
ĶUĢ“ĶĢ ĢµĢ¾ĢUĢ·ĢĢŖNĢøĢĢ©DĢµĢĶEĢ“ĢĶRĢµĶĢ®SĢøĢĢ°TĢøĢ
ĢAĢµĶĶNĢ·ĶĢ©DĢ“ĶĢ±?ĢµĢĢ!ĢøĢĢ"
suddenly, your bleeding arms fall from your head. you expose what you've been protecting all along.
a vinyl, a really old record from Alastor's favourite jazz artist. a rare find.
"I-I know but...tomorrow it's your death anniversary and I wanted to give this to you...as a surprise. I'm sorry"
Alastor's face immediately softens. Eyebrows raised, smile still not seen. He's just surprised and...moved.
He doesn't say anything, he just picks you up in his arms and takes you back to the Hotel where he bandages your arms.
Feeling guilty for putting yourself in danger, you ask Alastor to come to your room in order to apologize to him.
As he closes the door behind him, he says that there's no need to apologize.
"I'm...glad that you are still in your room. Listening to jazz, alive"
words didn't come easy, but he did feel the need to say it. you smile at him.
you propose to put his gift on the gramophone and so you do. music starts to flow between the small space you shared with the Radio Demon.
that's when you and Alastor start slow dancing. his arms around your waist, yours encircling his neck. his smile is back, but soft and...almost loving.
with his silent agreement, you reach for his cheek and graze it.
"Thank you for saving me, Alastor. Even if you are everything I distance myself from in this life...I'm glad you are the person that you are with me. In my next life, I'll make sure to be a sinner again if it means dancing with you like this"
Alastor now understands his feelings. It's something deeper than care. It's love. But not the same love you reserve to a friend and not even romantic. It's something deeper, more visceral.
He doesn't answer, just closes his eyes and leans in to press his forehead against yours.
you later fall asleep on your bed to the quiet sound of the gramophone playing, hands intertwined on Alastor's chest.
#alastor#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#hazbin hotel#vivziepop#alastor x reader#alastor x reader headcanons#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#writers on tumblr#headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfiction
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Aziraphale's Ring Is a Queer Symbol
In a previous post I hold forth about the symbolism of the lion rampant on the escutcheon of Aziraphale's signet ring. The upshot is that the golden lion is used by Heaven as a symbol of its threat and its merciless, murderous corporate culture, and I argue that in S3 Aziraphale must subvert this stamp of Heavenly ownership and symbolically redefine the golden lion by summoning the courage to be soft.
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Now I've learned some new stuff about how signet rings are worn. Come, sistren, and get nerdy with me.
Aziraphale's ring is one of several we see angels wearing in Good Omens. Here in an indispensably useful post, @indigovigilance lists the known rings of Show Omens angels and those rings' qualities and placement. Note how of the angels who have rings, everyone except Saraqael and Aziraphale wear their rings on their LEFT pinky fingers. There's a reason for this.
Since the medieval period in Britain and Germany, and from there in the U.S., signet rings have been bestowed by professional associations as a sign of membership, particularly at the upper end of society: trade guilds, colleges, hospitals, the Church(es), noble families, and societies like the Freemasons all issue(d) signet rings to some of their members. The traditional placement for signet rings of show professional affiliation is the left pinky finger.
In fact, as it was not socially acceptable in or past the Victorian era for men to wear rings on more than one finger, men who wore signet rings and wedding rings both would have their wedding rings sized to fit the pinky finger below the signet. If a ring had to be moved to preserve masculinity, it wasn't the pinky ring that was going anywhere. Family signets can be worn on any of a number of fingers, but since the Victorian period the men of the British Royal Family (who are from Germany) have been especial sticklers about wearing their signets on their left pinky fingers as well.
So. If you're British and you have a signet ring that's meant to indicate professional affiliation, you wear it on your left pinky.
But Aziraphale wears his signet ring on his RIGHT hand.
Before I offer my opinion on what that means, here's some more fun background on the history and significance of pinky rings in Anglo-American culture:
The Victorian period was when pinky rings started to become associated with queerness.
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As fellow members of the Hundred Guineas Club, Oscar Wilde and Aziraphale would likely have been acquaintances.
According to Wikipedia (ibid.):
"During the Victorian era, both single men and women uninterested in pursuing marriage could wear a ring on the little finger of their left hand."
This quickly expanded to a pinky ring on either hand. Here's Wikipedia's picture of farmer and philanthropist Caroline Rose Foster in 1917, the Edwardian era, wearing a pinky ring on her right hand:
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Do you smell a euphemism in "uninterested in pursuing marriage"? I do!
By midcentury--so only 30 years after Ms Foster up there--American and British queers, both men and women, were using signet pinky rings specifically to signal queerness to each other.
"For gay men in the 1950ās and 60ās, a way of signaling to others was through the wearing of a signet ring on the pinkie finger."
"During the 1950ās and 60ās signet rings were worn to signify membership of the gay community; both lesbians and homosexual men wore such rings."
The pinky rings @indigovigilance points out Maggie wears may mean she's an angel; they also match her midcentury lesbian style. Devious of the costumers to give her pinky rings on both hands rather than commit to one or the other.
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Screenshot by @indigovigilance
To review, there are three reasons a person in Anglo-American culture might wear a pinky ring:
They just feel like it--This can be any kind of ring and can be worn on either hand or both
Professional affiliation--This is a signet ring worn on the left pinky finger
To signal queerness--This is a signet ring and can be worn on either pinky finger
Aziraphale has worn a signet ring on his RIGHT pinky finger at least since he repaired the Eastern "Gate" in the Wall of Eden, so I'm not suggesting that he adopted the 20th-century pinky signet trend to signal his queerness (although as a clockably 'gay' 'man,' Soho fixture, and member of the Hundred Guineas Club, he may well have started it). What I am suggesting is that Aziraphale has been given a ring by Heaven that Heaven intends him to use to show his professional affiliation, but as with the flaming sword he gives away, Aziraphale doesn't use the ring for its intended purpose. By wearing the ring on his right hand, Aziraphale removes the option of interpreting it as a symbol of his professional affiliation with Heaven and renders it strictly a personal ornament. He subverts a symbol of Heavenly menace into an object of beauty and queerness.
I mean queerness in both senses. If a human takes any symbolic notice of his ring, they'll note the signet is on his right hand and conclude Aziraphale is gay. If another angel takes any notice of it, they'll conclude Aziraphale is a bit odd--that he doesn't pay attention to the finer points of how to fit in with the archangels, doesn't do things like other angels do.
In conclusion, pinky signet rings as a queer signal are just the fucking coolest and I vote we bring them back immediately.
#good omens#good omens s2#good omens 2#aziraphale#aziraphale's ring#good omens lgbtq#pinky rings lgbtq#pinky rings as queer flagging#good omens angel rings#saraqael#michael#uriel#sandalphon
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i am a man of my word. PHONE GUY BE UPON YE (rambling about him under the cut)
i havent talked about him much like at all, so quick infodump on him!!
he's around his early 30's in the fredbear's era, a very loyal employee who keeps working for fazbear entertainment despite the Rather Dismal Pay and Safety Regulations. he's present at the fnaf 1 and 2 locations, and the big scar over his eye is because he got attacked by foxy (his favorite animatronic :pensive:) but he lived!! (lost vision in that eye, however). he's well liked by henry for his dedication and william likes him because he's obedient and doesn't complain much even when overworked LMFAO. but hey at least they pay him... a bit more than the other employees! wow!
he kinda seems a bit shy from a first glance. he doesn't like confrontation and he's self-conscious about the scar on his face, people tend to give him weird looks because of it (he hated being stared at). despite all this he still tries to be friendly and helpful, never really outright rude to anyone. he's logical and likes to think things through before doing them, hates having his schedule thrown off, but he's a diligent worker and very good at planning. he's kinda lonely? he doesn't have many people in his life, his family lives far away (though they still maintain contact over the phone), and he's a closeted gay man and hasn't been able to find anyone to settle down with.
unfortunately for him, the closest people in his life happen to be his bosses and his coworkers, so he feels pretty guilty about the idea of leaving the company - especially when they're so short-staffed anyways. he's also not very rich, and the job isn't really that bad... right? /rhetorical
#fnaf#his last name is collins. because. cause. cause. cause. BECAUSE HES 'COLLIN' YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!#alright ill go now *walks off stage sadly*#anyways hes hittin that anime boy pose jesus christ#tentatively his first name is scott but ive been wanting to change it because i just. do not want him associated with THE scott at all#so for the time being ill either call him by his last name or jags which is the name my brother gave him (and im making his middle name)<3#my art#digital art#artists on tumblr#artwork#illustration#drawing#artistsupport#five nights at freddys#fnaf fanart#phone guy#fnaf phone guy
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Ryan condom forgot that after rhaenyras death we sre supposed to follow aegon if he wants to continue after nyras death so he can put at the end of the series the crown on aegon III, so he eather tries to make people view aegon possitively or have the series end with nyras death and the crown on aegonās head and people will riot like they did with the mad queen end of got, either way he deserves the hate he is going to get at the end of hotd. But now that i tnik of it the series starts with rhaenyra doing a voice over telling her story so i wonder if he will change the end of the story and all the lore just to have finally a targ kween sit at the iron throne
i've been saying this since forever but making rhaenyra the unequivocal protagonist of the story + writing this show with a protagonist-centered morality framework + shoving 30 years of court drama and political intrigue building up to the actual war in a measly 10 episodes is a huge fucking mistake because
1. the portion of the dance in f&b starts with alicent reading to king jaehaerys as he lays dying, and the dance eventually ends when alicent herself dies. this is thematically important
2. daemon is the unequivocal villain of everyone's story in the dance, including rhaenyra's, and him staying that way is just better and (i'm loath to say it) cooler for his character & arc
3. like asoiaf/got, they should have had multiple protagonists povs spanning different locations for viewers to follow. the teams debate + emotional investment, stakes and satisfaction would have been far more balanced that way
4. rhaenyra dies long before the war ends anyway. like please think ahead when you're writing a show like this dawg
5. aegon just has a better character arc than rhaenyra does (especially if he kills himself). bias aside, it's just factual š¤·āāļø
6. season 2's issue is the glacial pacing of character arcs (and some are... straight up just stagnant) while the plot moves its merry way along. we went from blood and cheese to harrenhal exile to rook's rest to regency era to now the sowing but the character work isn't there (and continues to not be there since the set ups and pay offs are almost all offscreened or nonsensical) because condal & co have structured the story in a way that skips 30 years worth of character work and arcs and relationships in favor of getting to the action immediately. they're suffering from that decision now in season 2 rightfully so
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yapping about the phighting lore so you can spam this to your friends if they ask āwhatās the lore?ā šš
In the beginning, the PHIGHTING/SFOTH deities were ābornā?? āMadeā?? you guys debate vro. There are 7 of these deities (however thereās an extra Iāll get to that later) and the world known as the inpherno was made
The deities are known as firebrand, windforce, illumina, venomshank, ice dagger, darkheart and ghostwalker
there isnāt much about ancient history in the inpherno yet so. (CRACK THEORY INCOMING) But around ancient times the āoverseerā made their ācultā which will be important to the present day lore later
now to blackrock lore which is the.. um.. it has a lot of lore. Blackrock about 30 years ago used to have Zuka as a recruit of the army (they didnāt have robots back then). Zuka w a s a mercenary in the blackrock army and was very well known in the nation āeveryone knew himā. (CRACK THEORY) However, zukaās arm was probably sliced off by illumina, because he currently does not have an arm and despises illumina. Zuka adopted rocket, likely during his mercenary era
Modern blackrock lore, subspace and medkit used to work together, they are both around 23 at this time. However, subspace wanted chaos and medkit wanted peace so they had beef with eachother and subspace ripped medkit eye out and im assuming medkit threw poison at him , thatās why subspace has rot. After that, medkit was called a traitor and is wanted (messed up I know) .
Coil also stole some crystals from subspace probably at this time, for his own use. My theory is that Coil was a secret test experiment of Subspace and he escaped and took the crystal with him as revenge.
Medkit escaped blackrock after more to that later . After eye for an eye incident, subspace invented these robots called biografts which serve different purposes (soldiers, workers, etc) . Hyperlaser joined the blackrock faction too, and is a hired mercenary by blackrock, kinda like Zuka. Hyperlaser was involved in a serious injury at the battlefield maybe and lost his horns and has a damn lot of burns. (He wears a helmet know) and works with subspace.
Lost temple lore, church of the true eye (overseerās cult) is mainly in this faction. The people in the cult we know about right now are scythe, medkit, the broker and the dollmaker. (CRACK THEORY) itās likely that all of the members were forced or manipulated into the cult since they are all conscious they are doing wrong things. Especially medkit, who joined because he needed to escape blackrock.
Katana was also formerly part of the cult, however he left likely because of the corruption. The cult has a father like most cults, he isnāt revealed yet. To join the cult , you needed to have only one eye. You will either skip the āritualā or get your eye ripped out and replace it with a glass eye. I am guessing they are doing this to sacrifice the eye to the Overseer. The cult also presumably kills other demons that are either chosen or interfered with the cultās plans, they are probably also sacrifices. Most of the members of the church are highly wanted criminals, scythe being the most wanted since sheās a serial killer.
There isnāt much lore about playground other than the fact that skateboard is the leader of a skating gang in the faction. Rocket left the faction because of a certain playground group (hold up)
A bit same for theiveās den, but vinestaff has a curse that is slowly turning her into a tree. In about 300 years she will be fully tree.. The curse is kind of rare but not legendary since broker has seen that curse before. Shuriken got a call from the broker once, however he likely declined because katana isnāt dead yet. Katana is probably a bit worried about the thieves den twins because of the church of the true eye.
thanks
#phighting!#phighting#phighting roblox#roblox phighting#phighting lore#subspace phighting#medkit phighting#scythe phighting#katana phighting#broker phighting#skateboard phighting#rocket phighting#vine staff phighting#shuriken phighting#hyperlaser phighting#zuka phighting
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Alastor - Historical Trivia And Headcanons
Alastor was a mixed-race Creole man living in New Orleans, and was in his 30's/40's when he died in 1933. We don't know much else about him, but historical context can provide us with possible additional details:
The population of New Orleans in 1930 was 458,762, more than it is now. 27.2% of the people were black, 3.1% were foreign-born, and roughly half of America's bipoc population was unemployed thanks to the Great Depression. New Orleans' original Francophonication was still strong, and it was common to run into locals who only spoke French dialects (Cajun French, Louisiana Creole). The city has had a huge Chinatown, a small Little Italy, and multiple other districts known for their immigrant African/colonized French cultures.
The Jim Crow laws were heavily enforced, as was the 'One Drop' rule. If Alastor was a mixed race black man, he would not have been able to attend a white school, use the same public transport, and would have shopped at black-local stores and restaurants under threat of violence. If he was mixed with any other race, some Jim Crow laws didn't apply, but state or city laws might specify differently.
Just because Alastor wears a suit, it doesn't mean he was rich in life. Radio personalities often didn't earn a fortune. Unless he owned his own broadcast, he was paid by a private company for long shifts of hosting music, news, and radio plays. In 1930, 40% of households owned at least one radio, which means that a popular radio host would have been easily recognized.
If he was in his late 30's in 1933, he might have fought in WW1, so long as he was over the age of 21. Some cities gave veterans small benefits, or encouraged the community to give them jobs. This often did not include veterans of color.
New Orleans was famous for being one of the least Christian cities in America, thanks to its unique immigrant and slave population. Haitian-based faiths and practices (such as voudo), indigenous cultures, Asian Buddhism, and atheism were common. But Christianity was still the official, law-enforced religion. Schooling involved reading the Bible, laws were sworn to Jesus, etc.
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Alastor's outfit in Hazbin Hotel isn't very accurate to real-life American men's fashions of the time. Back then, deviating from the norm with the smallest detail would have stuck out like a sore thumb - like his white-lined lapels. Men always wore a hat. They were allowed to go without a waistcoat, but not a jacket. Belts were becoming more popular than suspenders. The silhouette was bulkier than the slimmer, Italian cuts of our modern times, especially the pants. Hair was kept short, and oiled down in a side part. Americans preferred the clean shaven look. Ties were essential unless you were a blue-collar laborer. Colors were almost universally muted neutral tones for everyday wear. The most colorful textiles for men were sporting outfits, like a tennis jacket.
If Alastor was a middle-class single man, he likely would have lived in an inner-city apartment, in an ethnic neighborhood. He probably didn't own a car, and took public transit like the streetcars. If he owned a house, it would likely have been an inheritance, and even the more opulent houses of the time would have looked small and plain to our eyes.
Because of the Great Depression, unmarried men were becoming the norm, rather than the exception. Men of the community who were sought after but remained single were suspect to gossip, but less ire than you might think; in the '30s, American queer culture was going through a very sharp revival, escaping the rigid Victorian era and before the puritan 40's/50's. But as a mixed-race man, it may have been illegal for a white woman to marry him, as the Jim Crow laws forbade the marriage of white people and Black/Asian people.
A middle class city household would have had electricity, gas heating, indoor plumbing, but may not have had running taps or a gas stove. Even with decent means, Alastor might have been using a potbelly woodburning stove, a dry sink/washbasin, wooden bathtub, and did his own laundry instead of sending it to the neighborhood laundresses. He may or may not have bothered with an icebox. Fresh groceries needed to be cooked and eaten soon, as things like pasteurized milk or store refrigeration wasn't a thing.
If he had enough money, then he almost certainly hired maids or other servants. Whether the maid came over just once a week, or did the shopping and laundry every other day, hired help was much more common back then, especially if he had no wife.
The most popular musicians in 1933 were Bing Crosby, George Olsen, and Leo Reisman. As you might have noticed, it was trendy for the lead singer to be backed by an orchestra, not a 'band' of just four other people like today. The most popular radio shows were Dick Tracy, Sherlock Holmes, and Doc Savage. They were recordings the radio station would buy and then broadcast, or sometimes the actors were live on the air. The radio host was usually not the journalist - the production team was responsible for writing his script.
#alastor#alastor the radio demon#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel headcanon
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i saw your tag about how in 500 years we WON'T be calling britney spears' "toxic" classical music, and i am willing and able to hear this rant if you so wish to expand upon it :3c
You know what, it's been over six months, so sure, why not, let's pick today to have this rant/lesson!
To establish my credentials for those unfamiliar Hi my name's Taylor I was a music teacher up until last year when the crushing realities of the American Education SystemTM led me to quit classroom work and become a library clerk instead. But said music teaching means that I have 4+ years of professional classical training in performance and education, and while I'm by no means a historian, I know my way around the history of (european) music.
So, now that you know that I'm not just some rando, but a musical rando, let me tell you why we won't be calling Britney Spears or [insert modern musician(s) that'd be especially humorous to today's audience to call classical] "classical music."
The simple answer is that "Old music =/= Classical music," which is usually the joke being made when you see this joke in the first place.
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As funny as this joke can be when executed well (this is one of my favorite versions of said joke, especially since this is a future world where there's very little accurate surviving info about the culture from the 21st century), there is VERY little likely of this actually being how music from today is referred to in the future, because, again, music being OLD does not automatically make music CLASSICAL.
If you'd indulge me a moment, have a look at these three pieces from the early 1900s, which is now over 100 years ago. That's pretty old! You don't have to listen to the whole of all of them if you don't want to, but give each around 30 seconds or so of listening.
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All three pieces are over 100 years old, but would you call "In the Shade of the Old Apple Tree" classical? Or "The Entertainer?" Most likely not. You'd probably call these songs "old timey" and you may even be savvy enough to call "The Entertainer" by it's actual genre name, ragtime. But if either of these songs came on the radio, you wouldn't really call them classical, would you? They're just old.
Whereas Mahler's Symphony No. 5, now that sounds like classical music to you, doesn't it? It's got trumpets, violins, a conductor, it's being played by a philharmonic! That's a classical musicy word!
The short answer of why we in the real, nonfictional world won't be calling Britney Spears's "Toxic" classical music in 100 years is it simply doesn't sound like classical music.
.....and the long answer is that Mahler's Symphony No. 5 isn't actually classical either.
See, music, just like everything in culture from dress to art to architecture changed with the times, and therefore 'classical music' is technically (although not colloquially) only one of about four to five musical periods/styles you're likely to hear on one of those "classical music tunes to study to" playlists.
Our dear friend Mahler up there was not a classical composer, he was a composer of the late romantic era.
So now, because I have you hostage in my post (just kidding please don't scroll away I had a lot of fun writing this but it took me nearly 3 hours) I'm going to show you the difference between Classical music and the other musical eras.
These are the movements we'll be dealing with, along with the general dates that define them (remembering of course that history is complicated and the Baroque Period didn't magically begin on January 1st, 1600, or end the moment Bach died) :
The Baroque Period (1600-1750)
The Classical Period (1750-1820)
The Romantic Period (1820-1910)
The Impressionist Movement (1890-1920)
You'll notice that as time goes on, the periods themselves grow shorter, and there starts to become some overlap in the late 19th to early 20th century. The world was moving faster, changing faster, and music and art began changing faster as well. Around the beginning of the 20th century music historians quit assigning One Major style to an entire era of history and just started studying those movements themselves, especially since around the 20th century we were getting much more experimentation and unique ideas being explored in the mainstream.
Even the end of the classical to the beginning of the romantic period can get kind of fuzzy, with Beethoven, arguably one of the most famous classical (and yes he was actually classical) composers in history toeing the line between classical and romantic in his later years. The final movement of his 9th symphony, known as Ode to Joy, far more resembles a romantic work than a classical one.
But, I'm getting ahead of myself.
To oversimplify somewhat, here are the main characteristics of said movements:
The Baroque Period (1600-1750)
Music was very technical and heavily ornamented. This coincided with a very "fancy" style of dress and decoration (the rococo style became popular towards the latter half of this period). The orchestras were far smaller than we are used to seeing in concert halls today, and many instruments we consider essential would not have been present, such as the french horn, a substantial percussion section, or even the piano*. Notable composers include Vivaldi (of the Four Seasons fame), Handel (of the Messiah fame) and Bach:
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*the piano as we know it today, initially called the pianoforte due to its ability to play both softly (piano) and loudly (forte) in contrast to the harpsichord, which could only play at one dynamic level, was actually invented around 1700, but didn't initially gain popularity until much later. This Bach Concerto would have traditionally been played on a harpsichord rather than a piano, but the piano really does have such a far greater expressive ability that unless a group is going for Historical Accuracy, you'll usually see a piano used in performances of baroque work today.
The Classical Period (1750-1820)
In the classical period, music became more "ordered," not just metaphorically but literally. The music was carefully structured, phrases balanced evenly in a sort of call and response manner. Think of twinkle twinkle little star's extremely balanced phrasing, itself a tune that Mozart took and applied 12 classical variations to, cementing it in popularity. And speaking of twinkle twinkle, memorable melody became more important to the composition than ornamentation, and many of our most universally known melodies in the west come from this period. The orchestra also grew bigger, adding more players of all kinds as now we didn't have to worry about overpowering the single-volume harpsichord, and additional instruments like more brass and woodwinds were added. Notable composers include Haydn (of The Surprise Symphony fame) Beethoven (of, well, Fame), and Mozart:
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Pay attention to the size of the orchestra here, then go back to the Bach concerto. Notice how in that very typical Baroque setting, the orchestra sits at maybe 20 people, and that here in a Classical setting, there's nearly two times that!
The Romantic Period (1820-1910)
In the romantic period, it was all about BIG FEELINGS, MAN. It was about the DRAMA. Orchestras got even bigger than before, the music focused less on balance and became more dramatic, and there was a big focus on emotions, individualism, and nationalism. Discerning listeners will notice a lot of similarities between romantic symphonies and modern film scores; John Williams in particular is very clearly influenced by this era, any time I'd play the famous Ride of the Valkyries by Wagner in a class, the kids would remark that it sounds like it should be in Star Wars. A lot of romantic composers were German, including Beethoven, if you want to call his later works romantic (which I and many others argue you can, again, compare Ode to Joy to one of his earlier works and you can hear and see the difference), but you also have the Hungarian Liszt (of the Hungarian Rhapsodies fame), the Russian Tchaikovsky (of the Nutcracker and 1812 Overture fame), and the Czech DvoÅĆ”k:
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See how this orchestra is even bigger still? Modern orchestras tend to vary in size depending on what pieces they are playing, but the standard is much closer to this large, romantic size, and it's far less typical to see a small, intimate Baroque setting unless specifically attending a Baroque focused concert. Also I know I embedded DvoÅĆ”k because Symphony From a New World slaps but please also listen to Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 it's one of my all time favorite pieces and NOT just because of the Tom and Jerry cartoon, alright? Alright.
The Impressionist Movement (1890-1920)
A bit after it began but definitely still during the romantic period, a counter movement began in France that turned away from the emotional excess of romanticism and focused less on standard chord progression and explored more unconventional scales. This music was less worried about how it 'should' sound and was more concerned with evoking a certain emotion or image, giving you an "impression" of an idea. Debussy is by far the most well known name in this movement, even though he personally hated the term 'impressionism,' lol.
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Notice the way the periods build on each other naturally, literally, physically builds on the orchestras that came before, evolving in style and structure until you get to the late 19th and early 20th century when things were built up so big that a response to that excess started to develop, first in the impressionist movement, and then into 20th century music in general, which got much more experimental and, as we say, "weird." (frickin 12 tone scales, man)* *i do not actually dislike the sound of 12 tone, it's interesting and unique, but it is HELL to analyze in music theory, which is unfortunately when a lot of us classical musicians are first introduced to it, therefore tarnishing our relationship to the genre as we cannot separate it from our own undergrad anguish
Even if you're not a super active listener and you have a harder time discerning the difference between, say, late baroque and early classical, you cannot deny that the first piece I've linked by Bach and the last piece I've linked by Debussy sound completely different. They're both orchestral pieces (I intentionally chose all orchestral pieces as my examples here, getting into solo works, opera, and chamber ensembles would take too long), but other than that, they couldn't be more different.
Wait, so what are we talking about again?
Classical Music is first a period of music, a specific artistic movement with music typically written in Europe between 1750 and 1820 with a specific sound that is distinct from these other styles I've outlined here.
And Classical Music is second a genre. Because while academically and historically Baroque music is not classical, and Romantic music is not classical...colloquially it is. They sound similar enough that it makes sense to put them on the same playlists, the same radio stations, the same 'beats to study to' youtube compilation videos. While individuals may have favorites and preferences, it's not far fetched to say that if you like listening to one of these styles, you'll at least like one of the others.
But whether you're being broad and referring to our modern idea of the classical genre, or you're being pedantic like me and referring to a specific period of musical history (or modern compositions emulating that style, because yeah, modern compositions of all of theses styles do exist), I think we can all agree that, as much as it slaps, "Toxic" by Britney Spears is not classical music, and 500 years is unlikely to change our perspective of that.
A Traditional Ballad though?
Yeah, I can see us calling it that in 5 billion years.
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(the full version of this scene is age restricted for some reason, but you can watch it here)
Anyway, thanks for reading y'all, have a good one!
#music#music theory#music history#classical music#baroque music#romantic music#impressionist music#music teacher#music teaching#taylor teaches#asks and answers#long post
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Well arenāt we āusā sharing pronouns now? So how could we separately heal?
God theyāre so When Somebody Needs You by Will Wood.
Anyways my take on Arthur and John, I made this before looking at any other fanart based on the vibes and this is what I came up with. The 1920ās-30ās are one of my hyperfixations so I had to make Arthurās hair and clothes into something befitting of a gentleman of the era.
This was also started while listening to the first few episodes which is why Arthur doesnāt have his signature scars, sorry.
I was however surprised to find that my John design had similarities with several others Iāve seen, I figured out he was probably The King In Yellow pretty quickly and added it into my design with the hopes that I wasnāt wrong. I just wasnāt expecting Arthur to romance the eldritch God in his head.
Hopefully Iāll make more art, I really want to draw Oscar and Kane because my visions for them are really fun, especially Kane who I have twoversions of which I think he would appreciate. But thatās all up to energy. Iām already on part 40 and I want to cry!!
#arthur lester#arthur lester malevolent#john doe#john doe malevolent#arthur malevolent#john malevolent#oscar malevolent#kayne malevolent#malevolent#malevolent podcast#horror podcast#I did not expect a love confession by season two#they are so difunctuonal but I love them#will wood#Spotify
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I literally get so mad about the pole dancing pictures. He used his USUALLY SUGGESTIVE AND MATURE CHARACTER to do a prompt that is ASSOCIATED with maturity and WASN'T EVEN SHOWING HIMSELF OFF and it was apparently so bad he had to delete them?
Pole dancing is a sport for a lot of people? People use it to work out and train themselves and their strength. Just because you (vague you, not a specific you) see it sexually, doesn't mean everyone else does! AND HE HAD CLOTHES ON.
They were up for such a short amount of time I straight up forgot they existed to be so real with you.
Plus. Is this man never allowed to be mature? He's a grown ass man. He's in his thirties. Why is this a "Mmm maybe not, Thomas" moment? Why does the fandom ever get to do that? People also bullied him over Virgil's fuckin skirt outfit. And the belt not "sitting on the hip"
Maybe he did that because the character is emo and that was a major part of emo style! May-fuckin-be!
Sorry I get so heated over this. Ugh. He's an adult. He was a young adult during the prime time emo era. He's an adult. He can do what he wants. If he wants to do pole dancing pictures (IN CHARACTER) he should be allowed to. Ugh.
What a way to start my morning (it's 6:30 LMAO)
Anyway pole dancer Remus and Virgil live in my heart and give me so many ideas I love them.
Have a good day y'all
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Fucking T H I S!!! Literally Pole dancing (very much like belly dancing) is N O T fucking sexual unless the person is doing it with that intent!!! It's an art that takes S O much fucking upper body strength and skill and the fact that people were harassing Thomas for probably the most tame pics of him in Ree costume of all things baffles me!!! (They hear pole dancing and immediately equate it to strippers just wait till they find out what's also that long metal pole at parks and Firefighters HQs /sarcasm) What's even more wild is that these are the exact same people saying "Stop babying Thomas he's a grown man >:}(" whenever this man gets harassed for swearing and immediately become hypocrites when he does shit to express himself and be more comfortable with his body (Majority of it being him shirtless at most and fucking clothed) I was so pissed about the Vee skirt look harassment too especially knowing the exact context on why it happened in the first place and I'm so fucking glad he didn't delete those... As someone who's been in this fandom since 2017 people just want a reason to hate him because I will never get over the time he got harassed for supporting Ace people if you don't like him just do yourself a favor and fucking leave it's as simple as that (Also R E A L š Anon pole dancer!Ree and Vee S H O U L D live in your heart they're so beloved and you too <3)
#i'm literally so fucking glad i can talk about this shit with y'all because i have been biting my tongue about it for years#remus sanders#virgil sanders#ts remus#ts virgil#sanders sides#thomas sanders#asks#answers#š anon#not a countdown
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How old the cast was when they died gives me massive brainrot. Especially Angel and Husk.
Angel was in his mid-30's. He gives young adult vibes but he lived to be a grown ass man that (especially in the 40's when he died) would have been expected to have a house, a wife, and kids (again, 1940's societal expectations, whether or not gay mobster Anthony had any of that IDK). And again, this man could have very much fought in WW2 and died a fucking veteran. His age matches up, he would have been in his early 30's/ late 20's when the draft started in the US. (Assuming he was 35 in '47 then he would have been 28 when the draft started.)
Then you have Husk. The oldest member of the cast in terms of how old he was when he died. He was in his 70's when he died in the 1970's. A man born in the fucking 1900's if not the late 1890's. A man who lived to see insane societal and technological advancement. He also may have been a WW2 vet, he would have been on the older end of the draft, but still included in it. He has lived through so much just by virtue of the eras he lived through. This isn't including whatever it is he had to live through in his personal life. Like, not only could he have had kids, but he could have had grandkids. I wonder if he did, and I wonder if his grandkids are still alive, hell, his kids could still be alive too.
I hope we get more info on their human lives, because I have too much brainrot.
#husker hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#angel dust hazbin hotel#angel dust#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel#hazbin
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The Wandering Jew Dir. Maurice Elvey 1933
[Note: This film along with 1934's Jew SĆ¼ss set Conrad Veidt apart from many of his German film actor peers. While he was not Jewish, many of his close friends and colleagues -- not to mention his wife Lily -- were, and he was committed to portraying these deeply complicated and sympathetic characters with as much care and empathy as humanly possible. You can see it in his performance. These films are what got his work banned in Germany in the '30s and painted a huge target on his back. Later he would double down and donate most of his acting paychecks to the British war effort, and arrange to help friends and family who were in danger of violence in Germany safely get out of the country. Maybe it's not necessary to mention all this, but just in case I want to make it abundantly clear where he stood.]
When I first saw this movie about a year ago, I couldn't get into it. It didn't help that I only watched the shorter version on Youtube. The poor quality of the picture and audio, plus a mostly terrible cast, made it a tough watch. But I wanted to give The Wandering Jew a second chance, if only for the Conrad Veidt of it all, and I'm glad I did. So over the course of the first weekend in November, I watched both versions: the shorter, much-censored version and the digitally restored version with over 20 minutes of additional material.
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After watching the two existing/available copies of the film, I definitely think both are necessary if you want to get the whole picture.
Unfortunately, the shorter version is in semi-rough shape and the audio is pretty garbled, but the edits are smoother which helps individual scenes and lines make more sense. There's more air in this version; the director clearly wanted to give the actors, especially Connie, room to breathe, and it not only helps the pacing but the atmosphere of the film as well. However, the shorter version is missing several important and interesting moments due to some heavy-handed censorship.
The longer version has a cleaner picture and slightly clearer audio, but some of the dialogue gets randomly chopped up and there are abrupt cuts that make the film jumpy and take away from the languid atmospheric feeling that in retrospect I think actually makes the film work. Or at least tries to make it work. And, being the longer version, there are key scenes that made it past the censors: all the scenes related to leprosy; the aggressive anti-semitic stuff at the Renaissance Faire crusaders camp; and a great line Matathias delivers in an added scene in Act IV, "All men are Christians. All men are Jews. The faith is only a mask, it does not make a man what he is." MIC DROP, AIR HORNS. There's also a wild scene where Renaissance Faire crusade era Matathias cackles at Anne Grey's crucifix for well over a minute. But for whatever reason, the longer version is missing random things too, like the forward, which isn't entirely necessary but if you're presenting your film in a kind of storybook style, a written forward makes sense.
And there is an illustrative, storybook quality to the film. The costumes and sets feel like something out of a N.C. Wyeth painting or even vaguely Pre-Raphaelite at times. It's heavily romanticized and I think this threw me the first time I saw the movie. But it makes sense, the story is a parable after all. And yet, while you're going in that direction, why not go bigger, why not compose each shot with even more care? I know they shot this movie in 1933, but all I want is some vision and intentionality in the cinematography and staging, dang it! I do like the two moments when Jesus is speaking and his dialogue is only shown as text. We don't see or hear him, but everyone else in the shot is frozen and the sound drops out. Time seems to stop for a few seconds. But nothing else in the film really manages to match those moments stylistically.
I feel like a broken record saying this, but Connie's performance once again carries the entire film. Pretty much everyone else is just so bad, the women in particular. Seriously, sound was being used in films at this point for over 5 years -- so why is everyone in this movie doing this style of acting that is maybe only acceptable for huge stage productions? Three of the four lead actresses are legitimately the worst. The only exception is Peggy Ashcroft in Act IV who isn't great, but at least she's a better scene partner. That could also have something to do with the first three women being annoyingly pious, and Act IV's Olalla is just a more interesting and better-written character. In Act I, the woman playing Judith barely engages with Connie. Sure, she's dying, but she's dying like she's on stage in some 2000+ seat West End theater. And the wife in Act III is literally giving Connie nothing to work with, nothing! There's so little believable intimacy in these women's performances that it really makes the movie suffer as a whole. Maybe that's harsh, maybe that's what the director wanted, but I think about Connie's other British films from this time and their lead actresses -- Madeleine Carroll, Jill Esmond, etc -- weren't nearly as painfully awful.
Though this is Connie's fifth English language film, it almost seems like he's still getting his sea legs as an actor in the British studio system. Maybe with the exception of I Was A Spy, his previous English films were all roles for a character actor, and so Matathias was the first opportunity he had to really show off his range. I have no idea if they shot in sequence -- unlikely -- but from Act I to Act IV he seems like he's progressively carving out a foundation for his future work in British films. After The Wandering Jew, he was off and running with a great series of meaty and fascinating roles. Josef SĆ¼ss, The Stranger, even Convict 83 have some roots in the performance he gives in this movie.
Matathias is a role an actor would consider one of their crowning achievements but would probably never want to play again. He's incredibly demanding and challenging, very likely made even more so by Connie's uniquely holistic and intense method of preparing for a role. Even though there are moments when his performance comes across as a little stilted, that could be more due to him trying to match the tone of the film itself, especially early in the narrative when he's a little flat -- he has to start like that so he has somewhere to go with the character. There's zero humor or levity in the script so Connie had to humanize Matathias through his journey across time by incorporating moments of deep compassion and the pain of loss, shame and regret, and ultimately complete surrender.
No other actor would believe the story and its message enough to pull off the heart-wrenching performance Connie gives in this film.
Act I Matathias is a difficult guy in a fabulous robe (the sleeves!). He's clearly selfish, but not really cruel. After all, he and everyone else know that the woman he loves does not belong to him and were she to go home to her husband, she would most definitely not survive whatever violence awaited her there. And Matathias does not allow harm to come to her, at least not in that way. His selfishness means he'll keep her at any cost, meaning he refuses to see how ill she really is. But he's not a bad guy, he's just a regular person in a very difficult situation which makes his impulse to bitterly lash out at Christ understandable. But there is some part of him that does believe because it doesnāt take much for him to get on board with the whole curse thing. With very little convincing, he appears to be resigned to his fate. But that's fine, we have to move the story along, after all.
The cruelty comes out more in Act II. The Unknown Knight just wants to fight, feast, and get his freak on. Connie gets to be pretty aggressively sexual (good god, the way he grabs that woman) and blasphemous in this section ("Blasphamy, blaspha-you, blaspha-everybody in the room!"), especially for the early 1930s, so no wonder it's one of the shorter acts. His haircut might be hideous, but his veiny forearms are, uh, real nice (as are all the long shots of his exposed throat and sternum throughout the film). Confession time: it took me three viewings to get the whole leprosy thing. Judith has it in Act I, so does the guy who wanders into the camp in Act II, and the sick boy in Act IV as well. The son in Act III is bit by a snake, but it could be something to do with snakes = the devil or something, idk. The appearance of sickness/leprosy always signals a lesson Matathias has to learn, or signals the ending or beginning of something important. So his reaction to Renaissance Faire Babe's rejection isn't really about her at all, which is revealed in the longer edit of the film. He hears the leper's bell and mutters, "Uncleanā¦," before letting Ren Faire Babe discover her murdered husband. Matathias may not have killed the man, but he continues to leave behind a trail of death and destruction as some kind of act of defiance against the curse of wandering the earth until such undetermined time as Jesus will appear to him again. By making his life dangerous, he flaunts how he is able to cheat death, but when he hears the leper's bell and is reminded of the events that set him on this path, he realizes he can't go on like this, that there has to be something else, something more. I like how the shot of Connie at the end of this section echoes the end of Act I, suggesting he still has a long journey ahead before he can hope to reach own end.
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So when we next see him, he's a merchant and family man living in Palermo named Matteo. Instead of causing mayhem everywhere he goes, he's trying to build something, maybe even a legacy. This is my least favorite part of the movie, but the way Connie shows Matteo's heartbreak, first at the death of his son and later at losing his wife to the Church, is something else. When Gianella tells him she's leaving, he goes through each of the stages of grief in like two minutes and we can see it happen in his face and in his body language. The way his knees buckle and he slowly crumples to the floor, ugh. Also, shout out to the attention to detail in this film. If you look closely at the beginning of Act III, Connie's fingernails look ink-stained like he's been writing and handling documents all day. Not to mention the fact that he wears the same onyx ring throughout, and the same necklace in Acts I and IV. I also thought it was interesting how the music cut out when Mateo is handed his dying child, it immediately reinforces the gravity of the scene. This movie did not come to play.
Act IV, set in Seville, is by far the best part of the whole film. And I'm not just saying that because Care-giver!Connie is doing things to my brain. How sweet and gentle he is with his patients, the way he keeps looking up to check in with Olalla when he's treating her broken ankle, the way he murmurs and coos little things under his breath like "Come on, let's try a little walkā¦" and "Ohh, what's the matter, my boy" that sound totally improvised. That's the good stuff, right there. And when Olalla says, "There's magic in your hands." I BET. This whole fourth act is just Connie kicking in the door of 1930s British cinema. The scene in front of the Inquisition alone is the most powerful and important part of the movie. Connie manages to fill Matteo with such humanity and empathy by the end of the film that it's practically radiating out of him. In an otherwise one-dimensional film he brings real, complicated, fascinating, tragic and beautiful life to this legendary figure. It's astonishing.
Is it a good movie? Not really. Is it an important movie made at a critical time in history, as a statement against anti-semitism on behalf of the filmmakers and cast? Of course it is. Despite the mild annoyance of needing to watch two different versions of the same film, and needing some patience with the tone and supporting cast's performances -- it definitely helps to be in the right mood going in -- it really is essential viewing in the Conrad Veidt canon, especially if you're interested in his work as an actor. I mean, just watch this movie and bask in the glow of his radiant, spiritual performance. Bask in it!
In the end, I'm glad I gave 1933's The Wandering Jew a second chance.
P.S. Connie looks unbelievably stunning in this movie. His costumes, wigs and facial hair are all basically perfect. The silhouettes and lines of his robes, the details in his jewelry and accessories. He really knew how to wear the clothes so they wouldn't wear him. He must have been a costume designer's dream. Or nightmare (he can be your angle;;ā¦ or yuor devil).
#my writing#conrad veidt#the wandering jew 1933#art and film kind of feel frivolous right now#but idk they may be the only thing keeping me from losing my mind for the foreseeable future
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Rockstar Eddie 90ās Drabble {steddie}
Steddie I 2.7k I 1/1
Sorry for any spelling mistakes etc..
Its 1992 and corroded coffin has made it big. Eddie and the band are famous now, selling out stadiums and living their dreams. He is one of the most talked about metal musicians of the era. And to make it even better Steve has been there for all of it since 1987 technically earlier but it took them awhile to get their shit together.
Being famous means getting to live with luxuries and Eddie loves spoiling Steve with them. Going to the spa was a big hit. Eddie was nervous at first but knowing Steve and his penchant for self care especially hair care he should have know it would soon become one of Steveās favourite indulgences. Which is exactly why Eddie was suggesting it for their current situation.
As time went on all the upside down action began to catch up with everyone in the party but Steve especially. Chronic migraines, memory issues and random bouts of nausea just being the start of it. When they moved to California it was Gareth that brought up the idea of using marijuana medicinally, siting his uncle who had been using it for his arthritis for years.
Steve was hesitant at first, ever since star-court he had stayed away from anything stronger cigarettes but as time went on things were only going to get worse so he gave it a chance. As predicted it did not go well at first. Steve was already an anxious hyper vigilant person and the weed just heightened that, making him extra paranoid. But with work and a lot of patience from Eddie they found a way to make it work. They made a routine and stuck to it every-time which was why Steve was so thrown for a loop when Eddie suggested he take some edibles before they hit up a spa in the city.
āI know its scary baby but think of it as a trial run for Europe.ā Eddie took Steveās hands in his own, ducking his head down to catch his boyfriends eyes. āThe tour starts in a month, and you know how flying affects your migraines, especially long flights.ā
Steve bit his lip, āIt does get really bad.ā He sighed. āBut I donāt know, I got so freaked out with just you and the guys around. I donāt think being in public is gonna go better than that.ā
āThen Iāll rent out the spa.ā Eddie said immediately like it was the easiest thing in the world and not a thousands of dollar decision. For Eddie though spoiling Steve was the easiest thing in the world money truly was no object and would never be enough to show his gratitude for how fiercely Steve stuck by his side during his and the bandās rocky climb to fame.
āEddie no.ā Steve shook his head, unable to hold back his smile.
Eddie couldnāt help but smile back āFine what if we go somewhere more exclusive, less people.ā He raised his eyebrows. āLess chance of being recognized too, everyone there will be so rich and up their own ass they wonāt care about lil āol me.ā
āIāll consider it. But we also need to outline a plan and have a quick evacuation set up.ā Steve tried to sound stern but he knew he was already going to give in to his boyfriendās plan.
āConsider it done Stevie.ā Eddie squeezed Steveās hands as he got up. āIāll take good care of you baby donāt worry.ā He leaned down and gave his boyfriendās forehead a kiss before disappearing off into his office.
***
Eddieās new plan consisted of them driving out 2 hours to Joshua Tree where he had an emergency hotel booked and one of their regular drivers on stand by incase they needed to make a hasty exit. He also got the edibles from their regular source and was sure to check the dosage 3 times over before letting Steve even look at them.
About 30 minutes away from the Spa Steve ate the gummyās. That ensured he was still be sober during their check in which he insisted and gave him 30 minutes to acclimatize to the environment before they started to kick in.
Steve began to feel it as he and Eddie walked on the warm stone path outside the spa building, fluffy white robes on, pinkies linked. They were making their way to the heated pool to loosen up before their couples massage. Then they were getting facials and sitting in a mud bath then getting scalp treatments at Eddieās request. The dayās itinerary was planned by Steve with special consideration of him being high. It also gave him reassurance that there was a structure he knew theyād be following. When Eddie first started getting money and in turn started spoiling Steve, Steve felt guilty. He always tried to hold back, having to be pushed by Eddie to actually get what he wanted, to ask for the cucumber in his water, to book the facials and the mud bath. Now though Steve knew Eddie enjoyed it as much as he did because he knew it made Steve happy. It also kept him looking young so he couldnāt complain too much.
āBaby.ā Steve barley whispered, his palm sliding into Eddieās so he could squeeze his boyfriendās hand.
Eddie glanced over at him, a calm smile on his lips. āIts okay sweetheart I got you. Its still early only 2 other people are here and they are on the other side of the spa.ā Eddie kept his hand in Steveās guiding him over to the warm salt water pool.
Steve slowly waded into the water with the help of his boyfriend, settling against Eddies side in the far corner of the pool. He took a deep breath embracing the light headed floaty feeling washing over him.
āFeeling okay sweetheart?ā Eddieās voice made him jolt, momentarily forgetting where he was. Steve moved to sit up but Eddie settled a hand around his shoulder, his musician fingers sliding slowly over Steveās bicep. āSorry didnāt mean to scare you. You just look very content, its Sexy.ā Eddie leaned in closer his lips brushing Steveās ear.
Steve giggled, twisting his head away from Eddie to avoid the ticklish light touches. It made the water splash around them making Steve giggle more, he opened his eyes gasping and slapping a hand over his mouth. āSorryā he whispered but Eddie was already shaking his head.
āDonāt be, nobody is around youāre all good.ā Eddie smiled, brushing Steveās hair back. āYouāre enjoying yourself its what youāre supposed to do.ā
āOkay,ā Steve agreed easily with a nod. He leaned his face into Eddieās hand and closed his eyes letting out a pleased hum when Eddie began scratching his nails over his scalp.
They stayed like that for another 15 minutes before making their way back inside the spa building for their massages. Eddie kept an arm wrapped around Steve the entire way, his fingers continuing to brush Steveās shoulder when he felt his boyfriend get tense at the sight of other people.
āHello, for Eddie and Steve?ā A woman wearing what looked like scrubs asked them.
Steve stayed silent but gave her a nod trying his best to keep his face neutral. Most of his paranoia when high was with other people and having to interact with them. He was always afraid they could tell and were judging him. He always feared he was acting weirdly but couldnāt tell and nobody was saying anything and he unknowingly embarrassed himself or even Eddie. Because he was openly associated with Eddie his actions impacted his boyfriendās reputation and he would never want to do anything to tarnish it.
āOkay Stevie cāmon time to relax.ā Eddieās voice made Steve blink, not even realizing he had zoned out. He looked around and both massage therapists were gone. āLets get you undressed honey, that okay? Can I take this off?ā Eddieās fingers were wrapped around the belt of Steveās robe but were still, waiting for his reply.
āWha- yeah, yeah of course.ā Steve said, his eyes focused back on Eddieās face and he was met with a fond smile.
Eddie undid the belt of Steveās robe then brought his hands up sliding them along Steveās collarbones then over his shoulders, his arms catching on the robe and dragging it along as his hands continued to move across Steveās body. Once the robe was off he hung it on the back of one of the chairs then made his way back to Steve.
āArms up here big boy.ā Eddie patted his own shoulders.
Steve giggled, his face turning pink as he followed Eddieās instructions.
āThese okay to come off too?ā Eddieās hands rested at Steveās hips, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of Steveās swim shorts.
Steve bit his lip, his cheeks still burning, āmhmmā he nodded.
Eddie smirked back at him slowly dragging the shorts down until he was crouched. He tapped Steveās ankles getting his boyfriend to step out of his swimsuit one foot at a time.
āGood job baby, now go lay down Iāll be right there.ā Eddie took Steve by the shoulders and faced him towards the beds.
He folded Steveās swim shorts up and placed them on the same chair as the robe. He then worked to undress himself, folding and hanging his own swim trunks and robe. He made his way over to the two beds smiling at Steveās who was laying face down with his head turned to the side so he could watch Eddie.
āWant me to cover you?ā Steve shifted up onto his elbows as Eddie got closer.
āIām all good sweetheart donāt you worry.ā Eddie gave Steve a quick peck then moved to cover his boyfriend up before worrying about himself.
A few minutes later there was a light knock on the door and the massage therapists were back. Soothing spa music began playing through the speakers, and oil was poured on their backs. Steve let Eddieās pinky slip away from where it was wrapped around his own, turning his head into the rest and closing his eyes.
The massage felt amazing, it was like Steve could feel each individual line of his muscles being untangled and smoothed out. It created a low level hum throughout his entire body, like every single nerve ending was being stimulated all at once. He could hear groans come from Eddie every once and awhile and hoped he wasnāt being to loud either. Steve was glad Eddie was feeling good though, he knew his boyfriendās back had been giving him issues lately.
Eventually the hands left his skin and he heard the door close once again. Steve kept his eyes closed for a little longer, breathing until the buzzing in his body calmed down enough that he felt he could stand up without bucking at the knee. He still moved a little too quickly though, feeling a little light headed as he sat up. Steve kept his eyes closed, focusing on the sounds of Eddieās light snoring as he got his bearings. Once he was able to move again he made his way over to Eddieās table, smoothing his hands through his boyfriendās hair. Steve got a bit caught up in the motion, his heart jumping a little when Eddie snuffled awake, turning his head and kissing Steveās palm.
āMorning sweetheart.ā He reached a hand out, wrapping it around Steveās bare waist and pulling him closer. āReady for the rest of our pampering?ā
āYeah, cāmonā. Steve took the hand from his waist into his own, attempting to tug Eddie up. He ended up stumbling back into his own table, catching himself before falling on his bare ass.
āAlright stumerella, lets go.ā Eddie chuckled as he pushed himself up off his bed.
Steve giggled at the nickname even though he didnāt quiet get it. He accepted Eddieās help getting re-dressed, only smacking suggestive wandering hands away once. Maybe if he was sober he told Eddie who just wiggled his brows and moved on.
The kept their swimsuits on in the mud bath, laying side by side with their heads tilted back and hands intertwined beneath the mud as 2 aestheticians applied masks to their faces and cucumbers over their eyes.
āHow you feeling baby?ā Eddie asked once the women left the room. Theyād be back in 20 minutes to wash the masks off and scrub them down on a wet table.
āReally good.ā Steve sighed, his hand squeezing Eddieās. āI think I could do this againā¦if you were with me.ā
āHmm sounds great to me, I donāt think Iāve ever been pampered this much.ā Eddie tried to smile but his mask pulled and cracked.
āWeāre gonna be glowing after all this, likeā¦like glazed donuts or something.ā Steve giggled.
āWeāre gonna be krispy kreme level glazedā¦god I wish we had one here.ā Eddie sighed.
āGod me too, I could eat a whole dozen to myself right now I think.ā Steve agreed.
āIāll get some when we tour the US again, youāll have to come to every show in a state that has one.ā
āHmm deal if I get a dozen every time.ā Steve nodded lazily. āNow Iām so hungry.ā
Eddie chuckled, āthe munchies are upon us, took longer than I thought.ā
āHey!ā Steve pouted.
āHey! Nothing, Iāve watched you eat an entire tub of ice cream then throw basically all of it up because it gave you a stomach ache.ā Eddie was laughing now.
āWhatever, you thought you had jaundice that one time because you and the band smoked for hours while trying to write for the album and you didnāt leave the studio for so long everything had a yellow tinge.ā It was Steveās turn to laugh.
āThat was for the sake of creative process!ā Eddie defended. āYou are so lucky I donāt wanna mess up this mask or Iād mud wrestle you right here right now.ā
Steve burst into laughter, just as the door opened again and the aestheticians returned. His teeth clacked as he snapped his mouth closed. They said nothing and Eddie gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
The mud mask was wiped away with warm cloths and a bunch of serums and oils were rubbed into their faces. Then they made their ways over to the wet room where they were wrapped in seaweed then scrubbed down with a giant natural sponge. They both opted for the lotion after and were thankful for it as it was basically a second massage.
All that was left was the scalp massage which was what Steve was looking forward to the most. He and Eddie kept their pinkies linked as they laid on their backs, heads tilted back into water basins. Two new aestheticians came in and steamed their scalps, then it was a dry brush through, shampoo with a scalp massage, rinse, hair mask with a neck and shoulder massage while it sat, rinse, conditioner.
Once they were alone again Steve was the first to speak. āYouāre curls are going to look amazing baby, like a like a shampoo commercial or something.ā
āHmm not as good as when you do them for me though, you have magic hands baby.ā Eddie replied.
āIts why Iām a hairdresserā¦wait that was an innuendo wasnāt it.ā
āIt was but it doesnāt matter, iām the only one who gets both types of magic,ā Eddie tugged Steveās hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on Steveās knuckles.
Steve rolled his eyes but his cheeks still turned pink āCan we go eat now?ā He asked as he sat up. āIām pretty sure it wore off now so iāll be okay to be in a restaurant.ā
āSure sweetheart whatever you want.ā Eddie sat up as well, pulling Steve over to him.
Steve went over easily, standing between Eddies legs allowing his boyfriend to koala wrap himself around Steve. Steve rested his head on top of Eddieās his own hands wrapping around Eddieās upper body.
āThanks for today.ā Steve whispered into Eddieās damp hair. He played with it idly, fingers wrapping around random strands of hair to define their curl.
āYou donāt need to thank me,ā Eddieās hands tightened around Steveās waist. āI love spoiling you and am so happy I found another way to do that.ā He moved back so he could look at Steve.
āI love you.ā Steve smiled shyly.
āI love you too.ā Eddie grinned, he leaned up pressing his lipās against Steveās for a sweet kiss.
As they pulled back Steveās stomach made a loud grumble causing them both to burst out in a fit of giggles.
āLets get you to that restaurant sweetheart.ā
#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie#stranger things ships#steve x eddie#stranger things#stranger things one shot#rockstar eddie munson#corroded coffin#famous eddie munson#90ās#80s#eddie stranger things#rock star eddie munson#gareth stranger things#jeff stranger things#freak stranger things#this was meant to just be a little blurb but here we are two thousand words later#i am projecting on to steve#steve is me#girls who smoke weed
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Victorian Supermassive
OK so I started picking over the Hackett family tree again and actually doing what I set out to do last time(until I went to rest my eyes in the early evening and woke up at 3am lol)
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I'm focusing on this section of the tree undercut
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so that big Hackett ancestor people talk about?
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Septimus Hackett(54) was 3 years old when in 1893
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When Jeff and Marie Whitman married and died, the next sibling close in age
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Annabell Hackett(51) would have been 5 that year
Looking at the other siblings
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Benjamin Hackett(15) died 20 years prior to Septimus being born
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Mattheus Hackett(24) and Suzette Hackett(20) both died in the same year a decade before Septimus was born
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George(66) was born in the same year as Suzette(although I doubt they're twins due to the higher likelihood that they wouldn't have made it at the time)
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And Thomas(29) 2yrs after Benjamin's death
So it seems like there was a time when it was Benjamin/Mattheus being a year apart and then when they were 4/5 when George and Suzette were born and then when they were all between the ages of 10-15 Benjamin died, Thomas is born 2yrs later when the younger two are 12 and the next oldest is 16
This seems to encapsulate one era of this generation, when Thomas is 8 Mattheus and Suzette die leaving him and a 20yr old George as the only surviving siblings and 8yrs after that Annabell was born(with T and G being 16-28 and 30/18/2 when S came along)
Looping back around to 1893, the surviving Hackett siblings at this time would be George at 33, Thomas 21, Annabell 5, Septimus 3
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Side note about Azariah(75) and Ellen(78) really be out here having kids from 20/25-55/60, Thomas died 2yrs before his mother and remaining parent and Septimus would have been 23 when she died with George being 43 and Annabell being 25(does anyone else get the feeling this generation had some wolfish problems in early development?)
Okay so back to the main point, this information can 100% be used TQ/tdim Victorian era content, you want the whitmans to know the Hacketts? It's entirely reasonable, hell I may add some of this into my 1880 little hope au and I fully believe that the general family tree can be utilized this way and it very much resonates with how I connect these games and how I'll manage to care for the quarry
@kassiekolchek22 @delurkr @tatjana-fantasy @blubary @unhingedlesbear @kindheartedgummybears @ctrvpani @qusok @eddie-brii @mybrainrotforreal @tinynightmarewoman @wacem @eframschweigersskincells @legenspeople
It is now quarter to 6am and I'll now be using the tag "Victorian supermassive" to complement the "Midcentury supermassive" tag and think that era related tags should be used more, especially for crossover stuff
#The quarry#The devil in me#The dark pictures anthology#The dark pictures the devil in me#supermassive games#Victorian supermassive#the hackett family#ramblings#I wonder if I'll get myself to care about TQ by the time D8020 comes out lol#Now I gotta get that tag on relavent posts now š
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Hazbin Hotel fanfic/fanart: Desperate Maneuvers (part 1 of 4?)
Title: Desperate Maneuvers (part 1 of 4?)
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Alastor/Vox
Summary: (Regency AU) The once prestigious LeClaire family has of late fallen on trying times. So trying, as it happens, that the family's eldest son, Lord Alastor, begrudgingly agrees to enter into an arranged marriage with a wealthy commoner, a Mr. Voxley Smythe.
Notes: Part 1 of this fic was written for the Bapple's Orchard discord server's regency era AU collab, Pride Ring and Prejudice. (Server run by @bapple117.) This was originally supposed to be a contained scene, but I think it'll have two more parts plus an epilogue. If you find this post through a reblog, then check back to the original post which I will update with links as the other parts are finished. The story is also on AO3 too if you'd rather follow there.
This fic is a Regency AU, more or less. However, my regency knowledge is rather rusty, and also the setting is like some weird mash-up of canon and regency England. i.e. All the characters are still demons, and there's at least a little magic. And yes, Vox still has a TV head; it is what it is. Also, also same-sex marriage is totally fine, lol; the drama and angst come from classism and the characters being emotionally constipated.
A brief note on ages, Alastor is 30, and Vox is 28.
Fic is under the cut, and I also drew the end scene of part 1.
.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.
"Aunt Rosie, this is degrading," Alastor protested softly, still seated on the padded leather bench of the coach. "I have no wish to be a public spectacle." He could hear the distant sounds of people as well as the faintest strains of music, and Alastor, previously inured to his fate, now found himself possessed of a certain anxiety, fluffy ears pinned back against his head.
His aunt sighed, expression sympathetic but strained. "Alastor, dearest, I need you to step down from this carriage. Right now." Rosie was already on the ground having been assisted by a footman. "The other coaches need to come through, and you are holding up the line."
Alastor took a shaky breath to steady his nerves before sliding closer to the door, but he showed no sign of exiting. Ever a font of patience, his long suffering aunt gentled her tone. "Alastor, for me, please, come out. Why, I hardly recognize anyone here so I doubt they'll recognize us!" It was such a baldfaced lie, unbefitting of any lady but especially one of Rosie's status. However, the falsehood did give Alastor enough momentary hope that when Rosie extended her hand to her only nephew's elbow, he permitted her to carefully but insistently tug him from the coach.
In the next moment, Alastor had set foot on the carefully tended gravel pathway to Battlehill Manor. "Good luck, sir," Husk called from the driver's seat, and Alastor spared him a tight nod before the cat demon was obliged to drive on. Husk was also Alastor's valet and sometimes butler--the LeClaires struggled to keep staff ever since the incident seven years ago.
Now truly abandoned to the capricious whims of fate, Alastor squared his shoulders and faced the stately manor ahead of them. It would seem there was no way out but through. Composing himself as best he could, Alastor offered his arm to his aunt who graciously accepted, allowing him to lead them to the manor entrance even though they both knew the way. The Carmines were distant cousins so Alastor had visited their estate several times as a child, though no invitation had been extended for some time. No, even tonight's festive occasion had less to do with Alastor and more to do with his intended husband, a certain Mr. Voxley Smythe. The two men were to meet tonight and announce their engagement. Lady Carmine was graciously hosting the ball on Voxley's behalf since he had no land or title of his own. What he did have, apparently, was a very lucrative business deal with the Carmines.
Lady Carmilla herself was there to greet them in the foyer. "Lord Alastor, Lady Rosie," she nodded respectfully to them both. "A pleasure to see you as always."
Another unnecessary falsehood. Alastor smiled through it, greeting her in kind. "We must kindly thank you again for your assistance in this matter and apologize for any trouble it may have caused."
She smiled politely back. "No trouble at all, Lord Alastor. Indeed, all the guests seem to be in high spirits."
The three demons made pleasant enough small talk for a few minutes before Rosie inquired after Alastor's betrothed. "Has Mr. Smythe arrive yet by chance?"
"No, alas, he is late," Carmilla replied with the faintest whiff of irritation. "Some important business or other. He is often engaged in work."
"Ah, that is quite alright then," Rosie said sweetly. "We'll go in, shall we? We ought not keep you from your other guests."
Carmilla stepped aside so that the two aristocrats might step past her. "Yes, please enjoy yourselves. I believe the dancing has already begun."
Alastor and Rosie both expressed their delight again before stepping into the hall proper. As soon as Carmilla was sufficiently far away, Alastor immediately set his sights to criticisms.
"He isn't even here yet? I cannot believe my situation has come to this," Alastor whispered, sotto voce. He almost needn't have bothered. Every soul around the two LeClaires was giving them a wide berth as if they were stricken with some loathsome contagion.
"Now Alastor, try to seek out a happy moment or two--for Nifty's sake if not your own. A dance even! Your dear little sister would love to be here. Ah, if she had her way, she'd debut tomorrow, the scamp."
Alastor scowled for only a second before schooling his face back to its proper smile. "Then let Nifty marry; she's the poor soul who actually desires such a union." If Alastor had his way, he would have chosen to never marry at all. After the deaths of his parents, his dowager aunt had resumed the mantle of family head while Alastor had been preoccupied with his school studies. At present, the two demons shared the load--meager as it was now--until such a time as it could be passed to Nifty or her future children.
Regardless of the gravity of their words, Rosie's serene countenance never wavered as the two LeClaires meandered around the outskirts of the party. "Nifty's enthusiasm for matrimony is commendable, but she's yet several years too young, and we are facing financial destitution now. And since that's your fault, dear, I am going to need your help fixing it." Her voice was a calm but ironclad murmur that only Alastor could hear. "Furthermore, Nifty's prospects are hardly ideal. Your present sacrifice may yet wipe some of the stain off our family name."
"How noble of spirit I must be," Alastor quipped dryly.
"Please, Alastor."
Lord, how it pained him to disappoint her. "You actually liked Uncle Franklin," he said sullenly nonetheless.
She laughed with genuine mirth at that. "Your late uncle and I were lucky, dear. Mayhaps you might be too. Stranger things have come to pass."
"Hmm, perhaps." Luck had thus far evaded Alastor, and he rather much doubted that he ought to find it in the arms of some crass lout, but he would soldier on regardless. He did not wish to ruin his aunt's night with needless quarrels.
Rosie walked with him until they had reached a long row of chairs set against the main hall's far wall. A number of guests sat at varying intervals, some catching their breath from dancing and others waiting earnestly to be asked. "Will you be alright here for a bit, Alastor?" Rosie inquired as he took a seat. "Since Mr. Smythe is not yet arrived, I was hoping to catch up with Earl Zestial..."
Ever the dutiful nephew, Alastor kept his forced smile in place and waved her on. "No need to concern yourself with my moods, Aunt Rosie. I suspect none shall endeavor to move me from my seat."
She offered one last rueful smile before disappearing into the slowly growing crowd. Alastor was left to lean against the wall, listen to the music, and try to remain calm. As he suspected, while some in attendance shot him curious or apprehensive looks, no one dared approach him. Alastor cast his eye about too, wondering if he might find his intended before Rosie did--or rather that the other demon would find him. Uncaring of the engagement proceedings, Alastor had no idea what this Voxley looked like and only knew a little of his exploits.
Yes, his soon-to-be husband, Voxley Smythe, some upstart commoner who had made a fortune for himself expanding trade routes for the East India Company before returning to England and making his fortune twice-over in various newfangled factories. And nowālike some bloated carrion birdāhe had come seeking a nest to roost in and a title to go with it. Of course, what better way to secure said estate and title than to marry for it?
In this rapidly churning industrial age, destabilized aristocrats teetering on the edge of financial insolvency were hardly scarce. Alastor had merely thought his infamous reputation would've kept him off the bargaining table. Either this Voxley didn't know about the rumors concerning Alastor's involvement with the royal family, or more likely, he didn't care. Surely the man could not be so unseemly that only Alastor would have him? In truth, the deer demon did not know. After initially consenting to the written proposal, Alastor had left the matter of negotiations entirely to Rosie.
Fortunately for the LeClaire family, Voxley had no children of his own, and his and Alastor's union would not produce any; thus Nifty would still remain the next in line to inherit what was left of the family's property and good name. Voxley's monetary contributions would keep the LeClaires afloat and replenish their coffers, and in return the man could leverage all the political and social benefits that came with a noble rank. In some manner, it was a relief that Alastor was simply a means to an end, not a desirable aspect himself. A prickly and solitary composer, the young aristocrat had hardly been overburdened with social ties even before his fall from grace. With any luck, Voxley would spend most of his time in London overseeing his various business enterprises and leave Alastor in peace at his ancestral home in the countryside.
Alastor cast a wary look about the large room once more. Zounds, what was taking the man so long? Imagine being late to a party in one's honor; Alastor found it rude and ungentlemanly.
Althoughā¦allowing himself a little ungentlemanly moment as well, Alastor at last gave into the desire to be elsewhere. No one stopped him as he slipped out of the spacious drawing room, up a small staircase, and down a side hall towards where he knew a veranda should still be, assuming Carmilla hadn't made any recent renovations to the manor. But no, it was still there.
Alastor sighed, leaning on the thick balcony railing and glancing out over the dark countryside. Every so often the moon would peek out from behind the clouds, bathing well-maintained gardens and the distant woods in a silvery glow. Crickets chirped faintly, and Alastor could hear the dance music from downstairs, the windows having been opened to the cool, spring night air. The young aristocrat drummed his fingers to the beat of a violin solo, feeling the distant echo of his own magical powers but as ever, he was unable to summon them. So lost in thought was Alastor that he scarcely noticed an interloper on his solitude.
"Hey."
Red ears perked up and swiveled, and Alastor's eyes widened at the familiar voice. Turning around, his gaze beheld some strange amalgamation--a ghost of his past decked out like an omen from the future. The Victor Owens now before him was a far cry from the timid, obsequious clockmaker's apprentice that Alastor had for some time befriended whilst studying at Eton. Now Victor moved with easy confidence, walking towards Alastor as if he had every right to do so. More surprisingly was the other demon's clothing. He looked like a proper gentleman now, smartly tailored in the latest fashion of London. Alastor felt vaguely embarrassed for his own expensive but now threadbare suit, but something new had been a bit out of his means at the moment.
Alastor forced himself to incline his head politely which Victor did in kind. "My, but it has been some time since last we spoke." Since last we fought, Alastor thought, remembering their messy parting of ways nearly a decade ago. Though he had seen Victor about town after that day, the two of them had pointedly ignored each other. Then when Alastor had gone from Eton, he had scarcely thought of Victor at all. University studies of music and sorcery at Oxford and later a more...specialized tutelage in Windsor had kept him busy. At least until everything had fallen apart.
"It has been some years, yes." The slightly younger demon came over to the balcony, leaning against it too.
Alastor nodded in acknowledgment, but otherwise he had nothing to say to his former 'friend' and thus allowed the brief conversation to lapse into awkward silence. However, Victor did not quit his presence, and so the two demons stared out into the dark countryside together.
"Are you alright?" Victor inquired after a moment, politely neutral. "You seem a bit...harrowed."
Alastor managed a thin smile. So they would be playing the part of amiable old acquaintances then? Very well. "Alas, I've been better. I am to be engaged, you see." If Victor was moving in more prestigious circles nowadays, then no doubt he was already aware of the general outline of Alastor's situation if not its full extent.
"Usually engagements are happy occurrencesā¦" the other demon prompted, a subtle invitation for Alastor to elaborate.
"Not this one," Alastor obliged, voice laced with an undercurrent of misery. And yet it was perversely satisfying to air his grievances so freely to someone, especially someone like Victor who did not require Alastor to put on airs. "The situation is utterly not of my choosing. Sold off like so much livestock to some repellent stranger."
"Aren't arranged marriages par for the course for your sort?" Victor apparently couldn't help but jibe. "I'm sure he can't be that bad, especially when you don't even know him."
"Oh please, what's to know?" Alastor's clawed fingertips tapped irritably on the glossy marble. "He's a boorish, vulgar social climber. You'd know the sort."
Victor glared at him, gentlemanly facade starting to slip--as Alastor had hoped it might. "Would I now? And is that what you'd say about me too? A disgrace too poor in breeding to be considered for an aristocrat's hand?" Victor glanced shyly away. "For your hand?"
Alastor laughed, finally in better spirits now that he had been presented with such easy prey. "Yes, I see you've come up in the world a bit yourself. Still not over your little flight of fancy for me though, hmm? Well, I certainly wouldn't have married you either way, old pal."
Victor's face flushed angrily. "No, you wouldn't have. You're more the type who keeps his lower class friends like a dirty secret and then discards them to save face."
Alastor felt a twinge of guilt at that but hid it well. "It's not my fault you insisted on reaching above your station, my dear."
The other demon composed himself with some effort. "I have a station now myself," he retorted tersely.
"And money, I'm sure, if your gaudy attire is any indication. All of which is merely like gilding brass. Simply scratch the surface and the cheap base material shows through." Alastor smiled meanly at Victor's hurt expression. Yes, this was why they couldn't be friends--why it didn't pay to befriend anyone from the lower class. Alastor had always wondered if Victor liked him or merely wished to be close to someone of his rank. "Regardless you're too late anyway. As I stated earlier, I am spoken for. Though even if I wasn't, I still wouldn't take up with you."
"Fine, fuck you, Alastor. I see you haven't changed at all in your last seven years as a hermit. Still just a prick with an overinflated ego."
Alastor feigned an offended gasp. "You really are a vile and insignificant little man," he replied with a pitying laugh. "Now leave me be. A proper gentleman should know when his presence is undesirable." The aristocrat made a vague shooing gesture to which Victor offered a far more vulgar gesture of his own before storming off back into the manor.
Once his former companion had departed, Alastor slumped back against the balcony railing with a sigh. Where he should have felt satisfied amusement, there was only cloying melancholy. The crickets and the violins no longer offered any solace, but returning to the party would be far worse. In truth, Alastor had been so long out of public that the presence of so many people now unexpectedly grated upon his nerves, and he wished only to return home to sweet sepulchral silence or perhaps the playing of his own hands upon his piano. Alas, like many things Alastor desired, it was not to be. At least sequestered here on the veranda he would not need to endure so many eyes upon his person.
However, Alastor was scarcely left alone for another ten minutes before Rosie came looking for him, heels clicking smartly on the tiled floor. "Alastor! There you are! Honestly now, I had to ask several servants before one knew where you'd gone." She began smoothing out his cravat and jacket, clucking at him like a mother hen.
"I was just taking some air," Alastor said with a sigh, letting her fuss over him. He would never admit it, but the motherly attention was very soothing.
"Avoiding the party, yes, I'm aware," Rosie replied, not fooled in the slightest. "Mr. Smythe has presently arrived though so if you would please come back to the main hall, you may meet him properly."
Alastor's stomached flipped unpleasantly, but he kept his smile affixed to his face. "Oh? Has his highness finally deigned to grace us with his presence?"
Rosie hustled them both back towards the ball as quickly as she could without appearing improper. "Now, Alastor, you've agreed to this matter already. Please try not to immediately offend the poor man."
"Emphasis on 'poor'," Alastor replied caustically, making his aunt sigh in exasperation.
The two aristocrats rejoined the main event, Alastor obligingly offering Rosie his arm again as she led them through the room. There were a number of faces about them that Alastor did not recognize, and he couldn't help but wonder which unfortunate soul he was to be fobbed off to.
They were near the curving, elegant main staircase when Rosie finally appeared to set eyes on the man she was looking for. "Ah, here we are." She turned Alastor around before stepping to the side. Gesturing to the demon coming down the stairs towards them, she said, "Alastor, this is Voxley Smythe."
Victor stopped on the second step from the bottom, smiling down at them. "Just 'Vox' is fine," he said.
Alastor felt his own smile grow painfully tight. Fuck him indeed, apparently.
tbc...
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#PrideRingandPrejudice#BapplesOrchardCollabs#RadioStatic#StaticRadio#Alastor/Vox#voxal#Vox/Alastor#my writing
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